Ingunn Ådland: Pianist At Troldhaugen

Her dancers hands
Elate and rise
Singing spellbound with his breath
Shaping his lovely, lyric dreams
Into sweet, soaring sound

Ascended from this altar
Of ivory and ebony
She strikes with the strength of sun on stone
Crashing like crystal cascades
Melting like the midnight mist
From her flying, fluent fingers
Norway comes
Dancing

As the music ends . . .
Her hands lift full
Holding secret silence


©Edwina Peterson Cross